


An Officers’ Tea for Two

by verybadhedgehog



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crush at First Sight, Engineering, Epilogue is post tlj, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren's boner killing powers, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Workplace Relationship, aftermath of abuse, agile programming, pre tfa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 09:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verybadhedgehog/pseuds/verybadhedgehog
Summary: Newly graduated from the First Order Academy, Dopheld Mitaka is commissioned aboard the brand new Resurgent-class Star DestroyerFinalizer, and is assigned to an important engineering project, where he meets Major Armitage Hux.Oh no. He’s hot.





	An Officers’ Tea for Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alima_Kle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alima_Kle/gifts).



When Dopheld Mitaka boarded the _Finalizer_ , it still smelled brand new.

Some of the surfaces in the quarters he would be sharing with another lieutenant still had their protective sticky plast-strip covers on. Dopheld peeled them all away. There was still a chance of a sudden kit inspection, and he didn’t want to get dinged for something so easily fixed.

It was new for everyone, not only for the new intake of freshly commissioned officers like Dopheld. His room mate Lieutenant Frins, a nice seeming chap from Ondar who seemed to spend most of his down time in athletic training, had transferred from the _Daring_ to join one of the _Finalizer’s_ missile defence crews.

Dopheld figured he would end up doing a ten or twenty week stint on the missiles himself at some point during his two-year post commission Development Plan. When addressing the _Finalizer’s_ fifty new lieutenants, the Development Coordinator Colonel Maitland had described the program in fairly broad strokes. After all, the new lieutenants would all go wherever they were needed and do whatever they were told to do.

His first assignment was in the ground vehicle section, working with a team operating and maintaining a group of defence walkers. There was a steep learning curve, and the officer in charge expected her new team members to hit the ground running, but Dopheld was happy and proud to put in the hours reading up on the new kit in order that he could show his worth. 

However, instead of being approved for a second ten weeks on the walkers, Dopheld was called into Colonel Maitland’s office. He hoped nothing was wrong.

He reported with a crisp salute, which Maitland returned.

“Ah, Lieutenant,” Maitland said, his attention mostly on the screen of his desk console. “At ease.”

Dopheld relaxed his pose.

“Captain Peavey and General Hux have asked me to suggest suitable candidates for a new project,” Maitland said. “You have computation systems experience from civilian industry, I see?”

“Yes, sir. Two years at Harpel-Voress Systems, plus six months work experience at Jarren Networks as part of my education.”

Colonel Maitland probably knew all this, was probably looking at Mitaka’s full civilian record as well as his military records, but it didn’t hurt to say it.

“And you were top of class with us,” Maitland said, tapping at his console. “I’m going to move you to another assignment. It’ll be hard work but you seem to be up to it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Report at 0730 on Monday to deck 16, room 300. Give me that far left code cylinder, you’ll need clearance.”

Clearance. So this project might be something special. Maitland inserted the code cylinder into a recess on his desk console, and pushed a button. The screen flashed up with Mitaka’s name and identification number, and a new set of codes.

“There you are, Lieutenant,” he said, handing back the code cylinder. “All set.”

“Thank you, sir. 0730, deck 16, room 300?”

“Correct. You’ll report to Major Armitage Hux.”

Armitage Hux. He was General Brendol Hux’s son. Dopheld had heard of him, and had seen his name on the Academy roll of honour.

“This is a very good placement, Lieutenant. Quite advanced. It’s systems, that’s all I can tell you about it. Continue to maintain your good standards, for the Order.”

“For the Order,” Mitaka echoed. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Mitaka saluted and left. He was buoyant with pride as he returned to his duties.

“I understand you’ve been poached,” said Major Ling.

“Seems so, ma’am.”

“I’ll write a decent report for your records,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now, lead the Troopers through a take-down drill on the front leg,” she said. “And speak up when you give orders. You _cannot_ be timid.”

“No, ma’am. I shall speak up.”

“They’re trained to obey. You speak, they do. But you can’t be timid when giving orders. I don’t want to have to write it in my final report.”

* * *

On Monday at 0720, Dopheld Mitaka emerged from a turbolift in the Besh bank of lifts, and took the left hand corridor towards rooms 250-300.

With luck and calculation, he had given himself just enough time to get to room 300. He pressed on the entry pad.

The door slid open.

“Enter,” said a voice.

Mitaka did as told.

Seated around a table were about eight people, mostly commissioned with the exception of two petty officers in their short blacks. At the head of the table, next to a display board, a tall young officer in teal, with flame red hair, stood at parade rest. He was by any reasonable assessment at all, _stunning_. It was the way the colour of the uniform brought out the shade of his hair. And the absolute cut of his cheekbones.

Mitaka remembered to salute, and the major returned his salute with what Mitaka thought was a very slight smile.

“Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am Major Hux, and this is the Number Eight Scientific Working Group. Pleased to welcome you. Take a seat.”

He spoke quite softly. But not _at all_ timidly.

Mitaka removed his command cap and sat in the vacant seat.

“There is reading material for you in the form of three data cards,” said Major Hux. Indeed there were three data cards and a pad of flimsi on the table in front of Mitaka’s seat, together with an empty drinking cup. “We shall explain the nature of the project as we go along, but you will be expected to familiarise yourself with everything on the first card as soon as possible.”

Major Hux turned back to his display board, and began an introduction to the project.

Dopheld listened carefully, and made notes on the sheet of flimsi provided. He found that far from being distracted by just how attractive the major was, he was enthralled by everything the man said.

There would be a lot of coding, some of it quite ambitious, and a large amount of instrumentation input to keep synchronised.

They took a break. Everyone gathered around a drink dispenser in the corner of the room, and filled their mugs. Dopheld was finding the _Finalizer’s_ on board tea better than the tea on the _Conclusive_ , but he still would rather like to get a care package of tea sent from home. There were channels that could be gone through. He noticed Major Hux making a slight grimace as he sipped. Of course Hux would be used to better.

Hux approached him, and he straightened his posture.

“So, Mitaka, you were top of class too?”

“Yes, sir. And you, of course. I saw your name, on the roll of honour.”

“A little while ago now,” Hux said.

Mitaka winced a little.

“Oh, that's not to say you're a slow starter, or that there's anything wrong with joining up in your twenties. We’re very glad to have all the talent we can get.”

“Thank you, sir. One tries not to be self conscious, but sometimes one does compare oneself.”

“Oh, understood,” Hux said. ”By the way, is Major Rhan still teaching Ballistics?”

“Yes. I enjoyed his classes.”

“He's a good man,” said Major Hux. “Good instructor. Lot of time for people.”

And then they were comfortably sharing reminiscences of favourite instructors. Major Hux seemed to have no mention at all for his own father, General Hux, a fact which Mitaka quietly noted. Brendol Hux was a man who was liked by his favourites, and otherwise generally disliked. Mitaka had found him pompous and overbearing whenever he had come into contact with him. His son seemed quite different.

Tea and coffee were finished and the team got back to work. Major Hux opened a team discussion on temperature sensors. Mitaka made an effort to stay abreast of the conversation, and found himself able to contribute a few small points.

After lunch, they reconvened in a different room, lined with work stations. Major Hux assigned Mitaka a work partner, and then, rather disappointingly, left them to it.

“Stormtrooper training scenarios,” he said. “They won’t write themselves.”

“He works so hard,” said Mitaka’s work partner. “Barely rests.”

Mitaka nodded. “Shouldn’t we, ah…”

“Follow his example? Yes, quite.”

And the two of them turned to their workstation, and began writing and reviewing code.

* * *

Dopheld dutifully spent his evening shift downtime reading up on the project, via the data cards he had been issued. He could see a little more of where his part of the work fitted into something much bigger, although he details of exactly what that bigger whole was, were classified above his security clearance. It was clearly something that gathered a large amount of energy into one place, and which required a great deal of sensors and control systems. Dopheld thought it very likely that the overall project was some kind of Death Star type weapon, although from his rough calculations it would be handling far more raw power. He knew that it would not be wise to open discussions on the matter even with fellow team members. They had been given a specific job to do, and they would do that specific job. 

The work itself was all in all not too dissimilar to his civilian job. They had a similar pattern of writing and reviewing code in pairs and then having quick stand up progress meetings. The First Order technical teams seemed to have more discipline about the meetings, but that was more or less it. He could do this. He would be part of something very big. That was one of the things his father had said, when suggesting Dopheld joined the First Order military. Dopheld had expressed some doubts, not seeing himself as much of a fighter and initially thinking he’d be too old to join up. But his father had said that the Order was crying out for good quality people and would be falling over themselves to have someone with Dopheld’s background. And so far he had been right.

* * *

Major Hux was not present at all on the Tuesday, but he sent a comm message to Mitaka’s datapad requesting a short meeting on Wednesday before third shift to go through the documentation and make sure that Mitaka was up to speed with the project.

Hux had booked a smaller meeting room this time, for just the two of them.

Mitaka found himself excited at the prospect of being in a one on one environment. A just the two of them environment. He _had_ to get a grip, he told himself. It was extremely foolish and childish to be indulging a crush on a superior (for this was what it was, and he didn't shy from admitting it to himself), and he should simply be professional and apply the proper standards of military courtesy and intelligent maturity. It ought to be perfectly simple.

Hux greeted him briefly and then they got down the the business of reviewing the documentation.

Hux spoke quite softly, but confidently. Mitaka liked that. Hux was clearly very proud of his project, and enjoyed answering questions about it. Once or twice the answer was “I’m afraid that’s classified, Lieutenant,” but Mitaka never felt that he was overstepping a line.

* * *

“Mitaka, a word, just one moment?”

“Of course, sir.” Mitaka stepped away from his work station, and joined Major Hux next to a large display panel.

“Contrary to rumour,” Hux said in a low voice, “I do have some free time in my schedule. And better tea than the ship’s official stocks. If you would care to meet in a more informal setting, over a cup of Rathin Fine or Tarine, you’d be welcome.”

“I would indeed,” said Mitaka, hoping that he was not blushing too visibly.

“Tomorrow you have third shift free?”

“Yes, sir. Third free and I work fourth.”

“Come to my quarters at 1600h,” Hux said. “Deck 23, room 1118.”

It was — well, it was perhaps not exactly a date, and Mitaka felt foolish that the word had even passed through his mind. But it was an opportunity for conversation, and collegiate enjoyment of downtime.

* * *

After second shift, Mitaka hurried his way to the freshers at the end of deck section Besh-1, hoping to get there before the main shift changeover rush. He washed his hands and face, combed his hair, and straightened his uniform. He debated with himself whether to wear his cap, or carry it. Although the meeting — he was careful to call it that in his mind — was informal, it was with a superior officer. Mitaka decided to wear his cap, so that he could remove it after Major Hux greeted him.

Nobody gave him a second glance as he exited the lift on deck 23. He walked a good five minutes down the corridor, glad that he’d given himself plenty of time as the numbers above the doors on either side climbed through the 700s and 800s. Perhaps he ought to have taken a transverse turbo lift.

He indicated his presence. The light on the door flashed green, and he heard Major Hux call “Enter.”

The door slid open and Dopheld stepped through. “Major Hux,” he said, and saluted.

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

Major Hux’s room was, of course, a single. It had a single bunk, and opposite, in place of a second bunk was a narrow seating bench, with lockers above. He invited Mitaka to sit on the bench, which he of course did. This put him in the perfect position to admire the large display poster above the bunk, which he immediately recognised as a key part of the schematics of the Death Star

Hux had brewed a pot of Rathine Fine, a pale and delicate tea that was much sought after back in the Empire days. He poured, and gave a mug to Mitaka.

“You joined up when your planet joined us, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Yes. We were very politically involved. The Mitakas were Centrists, at least nominally.”

Hux raised an eyebrow.

“My parents and their friends, they’d all but given up on the Republic. They were lobbying for a long time — my father used to meet a lot of people — to get our Presidium to sign the allegiance to the First Order.”

“Well, good for them.”

“My father and I discussed the idea of a military career for me. What with the possibility of war. And so, well, here I am.”

“Any military background?”

“My father didn’t serve — he was in the components business, supplying Sienar Fleet. Protected occupation, you see. My uncle died at the battle of Endor, defending the Empire and the Emperor.”

“To his sacrifice,” Hux said, and toasted him.

They carried on talking, and it seemed to Dopheld that Major Hux liked having someone to talk to and someone to listen to. There was, he felt, if he dared to say it, something in common. Maybe a friendly bond of sorts. He would very much like it to be more, but he could not afford to let his emotions run out of hand. It was imperative that he managed the situation like the young man of twenty six that he was, not the silly heartsick boy of sixteen that he sometimes felt like when Major Hux flashed his pale green eyes at him.

* * *

Hux parted company with Mitaka that time with the assertion that they really should do this again. He had repeated himself, in case Mitaka had thought he was only being polite and didn’t really mean it.

Mitaka had gone back to his quarters feeling like he was walking on a cushion of air.

Etiquette dictated that Dopheld should play host next time. Therefore, getting the schedules to match up also meant that he needed to make sure his room mate was out of the way.

He checked the weekly wall chart for his room mate’s schedule. Frins was working fourth and fifth shift for most of the week, and his routine would have him in the officers’ gym before his duties commenced.

It was safe to invite Major Hux for a social visit.

Still a little nervous at the idea of inviting a superior to his quarters for tea, as though it might constitute some sort of insubordination, he found an opportunity to approach Hux one on one, and broached the topic.

“My mother recently sent me a package of rather good tea, through the logistics reserve,” he said.

Hux nodded with a kind of wry understanding, which reassured and emboldened Mitaka.

“I would be honoured if you would pass by my quarters and share a cup with me,” Mitaka continued, in a soft voice so as not to be overheard by his other colleagues.

“Your invitation is welcome,” Hux said, equally softly.

“My room mate is rostered on fourth and fifth this week,” Mitaka said. He glanced up at Hux, and as their eyes met he felt a sudden lightness in his chest.

“I have meetings during fourth, today and tomorrow,” Hux said. “But the next day would be very good.”

Mitaka nodded.

“Shall we call it an appointment?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

“Back to work, then, Lieutenant. And let's not get distracted.”

On his way back to his work station, Mitaka took several deep breaths to calm himself. He would not be distracted. Not until the work session was over and he was on non-duty hours. Then he would indulge the light feeling in his chest. For now he would work hard, for his own standards and satisfaction as much as for the chance to make Hux proud of him.

* * *

Mitaka made sure one last time that everything in his room was spotless and up to A1 quality. It was silly, really, as both he and Lt Frins always followed their training for Kit and Quarters Standards. Both bunks were made up square and tight, and blankets folded square. All belongings were in lockers with the exception of two packages of tea, a pot, a strainer, and two officers’ standard issue drinking mugs.

He was as ready as he could be when Hux announced himself. At least, if it _was_ Hux, and not his room mate coming back for some unexpected reason. Who would then wonder why the tea was out, and why Dopheld was still in his full uniform.

It was Hux. Mitaka’s relief was quickly overtaken by the return of his nerves and excitement about receiving Hux in his rooms.

“Do come in, sir,” he said.

Hux entered and hung up his command cap behind the door. The room seemed to meet with his approval.

“I have Tarine Red and Tarine Black,” Mitaka said. “And this is my bunk, on the right, if you would care to sit.”

“I would,” Hux said, and sat down, neatly and elegantly, on the bunk next to the folded blanket. Even if Mitaka had not been so attracted to him, he would have admired and envied Hux’s poise.

“Black or red?”

“Black for me, please.”

Dopheld prepared a pot of Tarine Black from the room’s in built water boiler. “You prefer a long steep if I recall correctly,” he said.

“Well remembered,” Hux said with a smile. He looked up at Mitaka, and from that angle he was more stunning than ever. “You know, you don't have to stand on ceremony. Sit down.”

Mitaka sat down.

Hux put a hand to his own collar. “Since this is a social visit and we aren't on duty, if I might…” and he unfastened the hook and loosened it.

Mitaka clenched his toes tight inside his boots so as not to react. A little more of a pale neck than he was used to seeing shouldn't be having this much effect on him. At college, back in his civilian days, he had seen far more exposed skin on attractive people far more often. Perhaps the First Order and its strictures had done this to him. But on the other hand, First Order physical training was a shorts and singlet business. Entire arms and legs were on view, then. Thinking about Major Hux in PT shorts and singlet and training shoes would be a very bad idea at this point. That sort of imagery was best scheduled for the stretch of time between Hux’s departure and Frins’ return from his work duties.

“Do your people send you packages often?”

“This is the first I've received on the Finalizer,” Mitaka said. “I understand five and ten weeks are the usual schedules.”

Hux laughed. “Don't worry, you won't be in danger of over-using the channels. I simply meant it's very good of them.”

“Yes. It is.” Mitaka checked his chrono. “Should be done now,” he said. He positioned a strainer over each mug in turn, and poured the tea. He passed a mug to Hux, who inhaled deeply of the steam.

“Wonderful,” Hux said. He blew on the surface to cool it a little, and took a sip. “Ah, wonderful.”

Mitaka sipped his own tea. Although if he was pressed to declare a preference, he would opt for the rounded malty flavour of Tarine Red, he very much enjoyed the refreshing bitter bite of Tarine Black.

“Oh,” Hux said, “we should toast.” He extended his mug towards Mitaka, and Mitaka tapped it with his own.

“To the First Order,” Mitaka said.

“To the First Order.”

They drank.

“And to the Mitaka family, for providing, and to you for sharing,” Hux said, and raised his mug.

“Oh! Well, thank you very much, sir.”

“I appreciate your hospitality very much,” Hux said. “And really, you don't have to call me sir while we're on a social appointment, off duty.”

“Really?”

“Not when we’re by ourselves, at least. Just call me Hux. Or even Armitage.”

Mitaka was not a stupid man, and he knew he was not a stupid man, and he knew he was not being misguided or deluded to detect something flirtatious and maybe tender in Hux’s informality. He gave Hux a slight smile that he hoped conveyed friendliness with the undercurrent, just the undercurrent, of the possibility of more.

“Well, that being the case, and I'm greatly honoured that it is, you can call me Dopheld.”

“Thank you, Dopheld,” Hux said in that soft voice of his that it seemed only his closest colleagues ever got to hear, and that Mitaka had already been treated to far more than his position would really deserve.

Something was going on. He knew it. He did not know, though, how best to proceed, how to navigate it, how to deal with potential reciprocation.

Conversation turned again to Mitaka’s family, and there was something definitely wistful in the way Hux listened to Mitaka talk about them. Perhaps there really was something to be said for having a civilian background, and thus having a foot in both worlds. Unlike Hux of course, whose upbringing had been 100% military since birth.

It was a pleasant conversation, and it seemed that Major Hux genuinely enjoyed listening to Mitaka talk. Other than that it was hard for Mitaka to judge how well he had been navigating the situation. Perhaps he should have been more forward. Or at least more obviously receptive.

At the end of their allotted time together, something very definite _did_ happen. Major Hux was just about to take his command cap from the hook where he had left it, when he suddenly took Mitaka’s face in one hand, and kissed him. Just one short soft kiss on the cheek, over in less than a second.

“Thank you Dopheld,” he said, his cheeks pink.“I’ll see you soon.”

And he, and his command cap, were gone, the door clicking shut behind them, barely audible over the ringing in Dopheld Mitaka’s ears.

Dopheld peeled a glove off and held his bare hand to his cheek where Hux had kissed him.

Hux’s lips had been as soft as they looked.

Mitaka lay down on his bunk, flat on his back, and breathed. He held his hand over his heart and felt it beating. _He kissed me. He actually kissed me._ Next time there’d be more. Next time he’d kiss him back. He’d tell him how beautiful he was.

* * *

Mitaka and his room mate Frins had some shared down time, and conversation had turned to the Supreme Leader’s new apprentice and enforcer. Kylo Ren had been turning up more frequently on the First Order fleet, usually without prior announcement, and rumours had been spreading about him. 

“Have you seen him yet?” Frins asked.

“No,” Mitaka said. “Not yet.”

“He's like — well, he’s not like Lord Vader, exactly, not like my father described Lord Vader.”

This wasn't much help.

“I mean he’s absolutely terrifying. I can't stress that enough. But it's not just the sense of weirdness around him.”

“How do you mean?”

“It's like,” Frins said, “when I saw him walk past our missile loading bay, he looked like he was going to start a fight. Like a bar fight. Vader was more like a lord, according to my father. This one walks as though he's about to beat someone up. ”

“Right.”

“But you know he could do it with his mind. Which makes it worse, actually.”

“The powers — that is real isn’t it?”

“Yeah. My supervisor, Colonel Waris, he’s seen him do stuff.”

“I don't know,” said Mitaka with a shudder. “That sort of thing really creeps me out.”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, it's supposed to.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“I mean, he scares the shit out of me, so heaven knows what he does to our enemies.”

Mitaka nodded thoughtfully. “Is he human or alien, do you know?”

“No idea. No one’s ever seen him without the mask so it could be anything under there.”

“Anything with a human size head. Couldn’t be a Twi’lek, could it. No room for the, uh, things.”

“Good point.” Frins lowered his voice. “Supreme Leader isn't human. We know that.”

“True,” said Mitaka. “And we’ve never even seen a holo pic of the Supreme Leader. I suppose Kylo Ren could be from the same stock.”

“Could be. They could be related and just not mentioning it.”

“I feel like they would mention it, though, somehow. If they were.”

“Yeah. And I tell you one thing. For my money, he walked like a bloke. Like a human bloke.”

“Whatever he is I’d rather stay out of his way.”

“If you can,” Frins said. “You’re working on a special project aren’t you? With Hux Junior?”

Mitaka felt a very brief anxiety at the sudden mention of Hux’s name, as though he were about to be found out. He dismissed it, remembering that Frins had no reason to think anything was going on.

“Yes,” he said. “But don’t think I’m giving you any details.”

“Oh, course not. Just thinking that Kylo Ren might take an interest in those projects. I dunno, might not be his thing after all.”

“Ugh. You’re probably right. I’m finishing on this part of the project next week or so, and then I’m due to join either the internal comms team, or operations support on the bridge.”

“Ooh, that’s nice,” said Frins. “The bridge, eh?”

“It’s all up to Captain Peavey. I’ll get my assignment soon. I’m hoping for bridge, obviously, but that does carry a higher operational risk of Kylo Ren.”

“Yep.”

“Still,” Mitaka said. “I do want to see what he’s like, I’d just rather, you know, have some prior warning.”

* * *

Mitaka got his assignment. It was internal comms, and he felt like a little bit of a coward to be relieved about it

* * *

There was a next date, back in Hux’s rooms. This time, Hux took his gloves off to drink his tea. As it seemed like the thing to do, and as it might mean there was a possibility of holding hands later, Mitaka copied him.

The tea was only half drunk before Hux reached out a hand to Mitaka’s knee. The backs of his fingers gently brushed the fabric of Mitaka's uniform breeches, barely reaching the leg itself, but Mitaka felt it like electricity.

They turned towards each other, just looking at each other for a moment, hesitating only for the shortest time before they pulled each other close and kissed.

This time it was a proper kiss. Hux’s soft mouth against his. A brief daring kiss on the cheek at the end of a date hardly seemed like any sort of preparation for this: tasting each other, drinking each other in, kissing long and wet and slow and fast and bruising and passionate. Mitaka was very pleased that Hux, perfect, poised, professional Major Armitage Hux, had this kind of passion in him.

Their command cylinders clicked together as Hux’s hands moved over Mitaka's back and thighs. Then Hux’s hands were sliding up over Mitaka’s chest.

“Take it off,” Hux was saying. “Take it off.”

“Yes,” Mitaka said. “We won't be in uniform if we aren't _in_ uniform.”

“My thinking precisely,” Hux said, a wicked glint in his pale green eyes. He pulled back and unfastened his own tunic, then helped Mitaka with his.

With his tunic shrugged off his shoulders, Hux was beautiful. Slender and pale and soft: Dopheld knew perfectly well that wasn't to everyone's taste, but it was very very much to his taste. Hux’s undershirt clung to him, and Dopheld could see the outline of a nipple, hard, poking at the fabric, and he knew right then that they were not going to stop at kissing.

He took his boots off too, and let Hux kiss his neck and shoulders while he worked on the fastening of his breeches. He was quite aware that he was already hard, his erection tenting his uniform underpants, and he was all the more aware that he wanted Hux to know that, wanted him to see it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely stunning. When I first laid eyes on you I couldn’t help the way I felt.”

“I know,” Hux said. “It was…” He blushed and swallowed, seemingly embarrassed. Mitaka thought suddenly that nobody else on ship, no officer or enlisted personnel, would have been likely to imagine perfect, upright, Major Armitage Hux ever being embarrassed. But here he was and it was adorable.

“Let me take off my boots,” Hux said.

While Hux was working on them, Mitaka dared to reach around Hux’s lovely, exquisite waist from the back, and settled his hands on the fastening of Hux’s breeches.

“Oh, please do, Dopheld,” Hux said, something wicked and delicious in his voice.

Mitaka quickly had Hux’s teal breeches down over his thighs and knees. Hux’s shape was beautiful. So slender, but with a surprising soft curve to his buttocks. Mitaka gazed admiringly and longingly at it.

“You’re lovely,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind my saying.”

“No! Dopheld, don’t be silly.”

Hux kicked off his breeches, then picked them up again and folded them, along with his tunic.

He then moved to sit on the bed opposite. Mitaka’s gaze was drawn between Hux’s legs, where he could see a very obvious outline in Hux’s dark grey underpants. It wasn’t a surprise that Hux was equally aroused, but it was still rather gratifying.

“I think over here will be more comfortable,” Hux said, and lay down.

Mitaka quickly folded his uniform and joined Hux, slipping into his arms and kissing him again. It was all warm lips and hot wet tongues and hands grabbing at that lovely soft round ass.

Hux was pressing himself tightly against him, and he could feel Hux’s hard length up against his body. Just out of sheer want they rocked their hips against each other. Hux was making breathy little sighs that got louder as Dopheld kneaded his buttocks.

Dopheld reached a hand between them.

“Can I?”

He rubbed at Hux through his underpants, and Hux bit his lip.

“Yes, yes,” Hux said. “Dopheld.”

Mitaka reached under Hux’s waistband, and took hold of him. He started slowly but firmly.

“Tell me how you like it.”

“Like this,” Hux said.

“I’ll do you and you do me.”

“Yes,” Hux said. “Yes.” His long slender fingers were under Mitaka’s waistband, pulling it down and grasping Mitaka’s cock.

Mitaka let out a groan of pleasure.

They kept working on each other, varying the pace from time to time, kissing each other messily through gasping breaths.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” Mitaka warned.

“Neither will I,” breathed Hux.

“I don’t want to make a mess,” Mitaka said.

“I’m due laundry,” Hux said. “Now don’t stop.”

Mitaka came first, in Hux’s hand, pleasure and delight overwhelming him. Though breathless, he kept jerking Hux off, his strokes rapid.

Hux’s eyes were screwed shut and his face and chest were flushed full rose pink. He had wiped his hand on his undershirt, and his other hand was clenching the bedsheet tight. His body tautened and his legs shook, and with a long harsh throaty sigh, he came.

Eyes still closed, he relaxed back into the mattress. He was so beautiful. His pink face; the sweat at his temples and at his neck, darkening his red hair; his beautiful cock, softening now; his long limbs. He was the sort of person Dopheld was always attracted to and could never stop himself being attracted to.

Hux opened his eyes.

“That was very nice,” he said.

“It was.”

Hux sat up and carefully peeled off his come-stained undershirt. His slender torso and pink nipples were a sight to behold. Next time, Dopheld thought, if there was allowed to be a next time, he’d want to touch him and kiss him all over.

“Wipe your hands on that,” Hux said. “I’ve got a spare. And you can clean yourself off in my fresher.”

Dopheld went into the fresher, and washed his hands and his dick. He tucked himself back into his underpants, which were luckily still clean, and mopped at a couple of damp spots on his undershirt. He caught his reflection in the mirror over the sink and couldn’t help a smile. He’d just — well you could quibble about what counted as sex, but mutual wanking was definitely _something_ — with Hux. With _him_. With the supervising officer of his work group.

When he emerged, Hux was dressed, and was combing his hair back into shape. He seemed a little awkward. What had happened had probably sunk in. Hopefully he wasn’t having regrets. Mitaka dressed himself quietly, taking time to arrange the button cuffs of his breeches into shape.

“You can borrow my comb,” Hux said.

“Thank you.” Mitaka wondered whether he ought to have added the “sir” then. He combed his hair and checked his appearance in the full length mirror.

“And hair fixer.” Hux offered him a pot of hair pomade. Mitaka thanked him again, and applied the substance.

Finally, he pulled on his gloves. He was an officer again.

“Mitaka?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Mitaka looked at the floor, then back up at Hux. “I’d best be going, I suppose.”

“Yes. Keep… keep working hard, Dopheld. You’re quality.”

Then Hux’s hand shot out and grasped Mitaka’s for a couple of seconds, squeezing tight, then letting go.

Mitaka left, and let the door shut behind him. He wished he could have stayed longer. He could have held him afterwards. They could have talked. He sighed. _I’m really in love with him_ , he thought. _The one thing I shouldn’t have done. Should really have kept it as a work crush and let it go away by itself. And we probably shouldn’t have… but we both wanted to, too much._

He narrowly sidestepped from the path of an oncoming mouse droid, and carried on his way back to the main bank of turbolifts on deck 23.

* * *

The Number Eight Scientific Working Group were assembled in their usual meeting room, awaiting their team leader.

Hux arrived with more of a spring in his step than usual, greeted them, and gave the order to stand at ease.

“Now,” he said. “Does anyone notice anything different about me?”

Everyone’s eyes were on him, scanning him up and down, but it was Major Spen who was the first to speak.

“Your rank bands! Congratulations, sir!”

The band on Hux’s left wrist denoting the rank of major had been replaced by one denoting the rank of Colonel. Armitage Hux was still only thirty years old, yet given his experience and his responsibilities, especially those relating to the weapon project, Mitaka and his fellow engineers felt this promotion might be a little overdue.

The room erupted in cheers and congratulations. Hux basked in the attention.

The meeting then followed the usual agenda of progress reports and forecasts, before the group returned to their workstations.

Mitaka and his work partner wrote over two hundred lines of code. Mitaka preferred concentrating on spotting errors and bad loops in the code, to the selfish thoughts that were in the back of his mind. Relations, such as they were, between a major and a lieutenant might be just about tolerated, but surely he couldn't be permitted to carry on on intimate terms with a colonel.

Late that night, Mitaka went to the shooting range. He would do a couple of sets of virtual practice, and then one set of real live blaster fire. No matter what Hux said about his simulations, which were extremely good, nothing quite compared to having a real blaster in your hands, nor to the sight and sound of an energy bolt hitting its target, and the strange zippy smell that the reinforced target blocks gave off as they ionised on the surface under fire.

He finished his first virtual set, a basic set of practice against static and moving marked targets and simulated enemy combatants, and scored 99% accuracy. He was in fourth position on the daily score chart for the simulation, behind another officer and two Stormtroopers. One of the troopers had scored 100% accuracy and had been awarded a speed bonus. Going by their number, they were a cadet. Dopheld made an impressed face and nodded slowly at the screen. You had to give credit where it was due.

And at that very moment, from a bank of sim booths further down the installation came a group of trooper cadets, led by a trooper sergeant.

“Well done, squad,” the sergeant was saying. “With the exception of FN-3540, who needs to return to this sim in his own time and practice until he scores above 80%. That is _eighty_ percent, cadet. Seventy-nine will not cut it in the First Order and it will not cut it on the battlefield when you are surrounded by bandits, agents of chaos, and insurrectionist scum! The galaxy is counting on _you_ ,” he shouted. The cadet in question responded with a blank “yes sergeant”. The sergeant continued. “A special commendation to FN-2187, exactly the performance we like to see. I shall pass it on to Captain Phasma. She expects you to ace the final exam, as do I. Keep it up. No slacking, no resting on your laurels!”

The sergeant marched the cadets out of the range.

From another booth stepped Armitage Hux, who watched the troopers leave, hands clasped behind his back.

He turned around and as he spotted Mitaka, his face brightened. He quickly joined Mitaka, and slipped into the sim booth with him.

“Dopheld,” he said.

“Sir.” Mitaka stopped himself. “Armitage.”

“I'm glad I found you here,” Hux said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“I understand if…”

“No, it's alright. This doesn't change anything. We've been discreet.”

“Yes, we have.”

“So we will continue to be discreet.”

“Yes,” Mitaka said. “I’m very happy for you, you know. This was very much deserved.”

“Thank you,” said Hux, a little formally.

“No, Armitage, I'm happy for _you_. Personally.”

“Oh,” Hux said, and his expression was suddenly sweet and almost shy.

“Because I like to see you happy,” Mitaka said. He put his arms around Hux’s shoulders. “Let me congratulate you properly,” he said, and, rather boldly, he leant up, pulled Hux closer to him, and kissed him.

His boldness found a willing partner in Hux, who kissed him back with equal passion and held him close and tight. Hux tasted of his favourite Tarine tea, and he was letting himself be pushed against the wall of the booth by Mitaka and kissed as deeply as they had been kissing in Hux's quarters before things had gotten really out of hand.

Suddenly, Hux put his hands on Mitaka’s chest to stop him.

“Dopheld,” he said, breathlessly. “Anyone could walk by.”

“Sorry,” Mitaka said, “I got carried away.”

“So did I,” Hux said. “But we _must_ be discreet.”

Mitaka leant forward and raised his mouth to Hux's ear. “I would absolutely have got on my knees for you, Colonel Hux. Right here,” he whispered. “Just so you know.”

He licked the lobe of Hux’s ear, and Hux let out a shivering sigh. When he stepped back again, he could see Hux was biting his lip, his eyes were shut, and there was a blush high on his cheeks.

“I shall bear that in mind,” Hux said.

He adjusted the front of his uniform breeches, and Mitaka found it necessary to do the same. In civilian life, he would have dragged Hux off to bed and they would have stayed there until they were sated and worn out. But this life was one in which self denial featured heavily. Hux was perhaps more used to it. Mitaka, on the other hand, would give himself only the time to reach an empty fresher where he could duck into a stall and take a couple of minutes to find relief, biting Hux's name into the back of his gloves at the point of ecstasy. And that would have to do, as it often did.

“Listen,” Hux said. “There is one thing that will have to change a little. It's a bind but there's no helping it. We won't be able to meet in my quarters from now on.”

“Ah, that's a little unfortunate,” said Mitaka. He'd have to keep on top of his room mate’s schedule all the time now.

“I have a new holoprojector installed in my room. I communicate directly with Supreme Leader Snoke, and he may make a holo call to me at any time.”

“Ah,” said Mitaka, who understood completely. “I would not wish to be present at those times. To put it very mildly.”

“Indeed,” said Hux. “Well,” he said. “I must…” and then he stopped.

Suddenly there was a very odd sensation in the air. A disturbance, as if something was giving them goose bumps, but the air was not cold. There was a feeling of what Mitaka would best describe as subtle menace.

“Is that,” he whispered, “Kylo Ren?”

Hux nodded. “Yes. That's Ren. He does his own special drills in the live fire area.”

“Right,” Mitaka said. “I was going to do a set of live practice, but now I rather think I'll give it a miss.”

“I don't blame you,” Hux said. “I shall stay and keep an eye on him — I'm told I’ll be having to work more closely with him. And as you know, with oppo research, every little counts.”

“Alright. I shall see you at work tomorrow. Colonel Hux, sir.”

Mitaka and Hux saluted each other, and Mitaka took his rapid leave of the firing range, leaving Hux behind. Rather him than me, he thought.

As he departed, he realised that the pressing problem he had been contemplating taking care of in the fresher had entirely dissipated of its own accord. He hoped it had simply been the effect of nerves. He did not want to think that Kylo Ren had done it on purpose. That Kylo Ren _knew_. It was Ren’s job to know things by unnatural means. That much was official.

* * *

They were in Mitaka’s room. Kissing, and undressing — and they would be undressing all the way, since Mitaka had made sure that Hux would do things properly and take everything off, socks and everything.

Mitaka pulled Hux’s undershirt up over his body. Suddenly, he stopped. There were bruises all over Hux’s side.

“Oh,” Hux said.

“What happened to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“I fell. I thought they’d faded by now.”

The bruises were greenish brown. If they’d been fading, they must have been black and blue before. And Hux hadn’t _fallen_. He was poised. Elegant. Lithe. He wasn’t the sort to lose his balance and go base over apex on top of a mouse droid (Mitaka had seen it happen, to a rather clumsy petty officer who was nevertheless a very good star navigator).

“This happened,” he said, “and it shouldn’t have. Someone did this to you.”

“Look, Dopheld, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t be _worried_ about you? Don’t _care_ about you?”

“Don’t make a fuss, it doesn’t need it. I can handle it.”

“I really hope you can.”

“Look. These things happen. I’m used to it.”

“Used to it? I’ve never seen you with bruises before, Armitage.”

“Yes. Well. No.”

The only thing that had changed was that Hux was now working with the Supreme Leader, and with Kylo Ren.

“Did… did Ren do this?”

“No,” Hux said, quietly, but firmly.

“Whoever did that, and if it wasn’t Ren I’m not going to say it out loud, it’s not right.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it. There are sacrifices that need to be made.”

It did not sound to Dopheld as if Hux really believed this. He was hurt, but clearly didn’t want to show it.

Dopheld took his hand. “Hux. Armitage. You’re brilliant and you work incredibly hard, and you don’t deserve this. I care about you. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” Hux said. “It’s very nice of you. Doesn’t change a damn thing, but – oh, look, lets not talk about it, eh?”

“Alright,” Mitaka said, and he put his arms around Hux and kissed him gently on his cheek and his neck.

There really was nothing he could do about it. Hux was right about that. If he was telling the truth that this wasn’t Kylo Ren’s work, then it must logically have been done by the actual Supreme Leader himself, or on his direct command. He felt terrible. The Supreme Leader had given them so much, and brought them to the point where they could actually challenge the leadership of the Galaxy. But if all the time he was brutalising his best men, his very best men — it all seemed horrible.

Mitaka understood that physical chastisement was necessary in some circumstances, when bringing up children or when dealing with the most recalcitrant barbaric types among the criminal element. But your best and most hardworking people? Someone like Armitage Hux, who was devoted to the cause and workedhard? Someone who offered his brilliance and got results from the people he worked with?

He wished, treacherously, as he stroked Hux’s bare shoulders, that they weren’t here in the Order at all, but that they were both civilians on Mitaka’s home planet, with nothing to worry about. Where Mitaka could realistically stand up to a boss who was mistreating Armitage. But he had sworn to serve. They had all sworn to serve.

* * *

Over the next couple of months, Dopheld and Armitage continued to see each other, though a little less frequently due to Armitage’s schedule, and his involvement with all aspects of the secret weapon project.

A rumour suddenly started going about that old General Hux was very ill. He hadn’t been seen on either the _Absolution_ or the _Finalizer_ for a few days. Supposedly it was something he had picked up planet side — a mystery illness, something unknown to the ship’s doctors.

Some of the younger officers were saying that this showed the risks of going planet side, and that you were better off on board ship where you knew the air and everything was clean. Mitaka scoffed at this, before he thought it through a little and realised that the younger people had probably, like Armitage, been brought up almost entirely on board ship. Planets were a rather frightening foreign place to them. The Army personnel would have to get over it at some point, but the Navy officers could realistically spend several years only going from one star ship to another.

Brendol Hux’s condition was apparently deteriorating. There was talk of full immersion in bacta.

Mitaka found Armitage and took the opportunity to express his concern.

“Look. If there’s anything I can do at all, if there’s anything you need.”

“No. I don’t think so. But thank you, Mitaka. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“If you did just want to meet up,” Mitaka said. “Literally just for tea, nothing else, I wouldn’t want to be like that…”

“Oh! Ah, well I think I’m going to have rather a lot to do. But thank you.”

Armitage looked him in the eye, and gave him a brief squeeze on the arm, before nodding rather curtly and taking his leave. It seemed as though part of him was giving Dopheld the brush off and part of him was genuinely touched and perhaps did want some human concern expressed.

Dopheld sighed. He knew it would do Hux good to sit and talk to him, or just be with him, let him hold his hand and all that. But he couldn’t force it. It was the same as the situation with the bruises. He couldn’t force it, however much he wanted to help.

There was clearly no love lost between Armitage and his father, and Dopheld especially felt sorry for him at a time like this, having maybe to pretend to be feeling a lot more than he actually was. Perhaps it was even a potential relief to have the old man at death’s door. Sounded awful to think it, but it could be like that. Dopheld thought again, suddenly, of what Armitage had said about the beating. Snoke’s beating. He’d said that he was used to it, and he really did sound resigned to the whole matter. He hadn’t been dealing directly with Snoke for very long before that. So he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to get used to anything there. What if he’d _already_ got used to beatings? So much so that he wasn’t particularly surprised to receive one. It could have been earlier in his life. And honestly, Dopheld had never liked Brendol Hux, had always thought there was something very mean about him, hidden underneath that overdone fake pompous joviality. He would not put it past him.

Dopheld scratched his forehead. He might well be letting his imagination run away with him, putting two and two together and making five. But it seemed horribly, horribly plausible, and would explain a whole lot — including the sort of wistfulness that had come over Hux when they’d been discussing the Mitaka family, who were, he thanked the fates, a fairly well-adjusted lot. He wanted to be able to say to Hux, “look, I understand, it’s alright, he shouldn’t have treated you like that, you’ve got me now and I’ll always treat you properly, I care about you, I…” but of course he couldn’t possibly. Hux would not want it brought up and it would just make a mess of everything.

The next time he saw Hux he was in the company of his father’s aide, Captain Tritt Opan, and both were departing for his father’s ship, the _Absolution_.They did not stop to speak.

It was announced that old General Hux had embarked on a long term research mission, back to the far western regions of the Galaxy. Some said that he had made a partial recovery, and was actually going on a convalescent retreat. Others whispered that perhaps he wasn’t recovering at all.

Hux returned from the Absolution, oddly bright eyed and focused. Mitaka was curious about what had actually happened to Brendol but he knew he couldn’t ask. It was have to come up, if Armitage wanted to talk about it. And if they found the time. Whatever had happened was for the best; Mitaka was fairly sure of that.

All Hux would say on duty was that there was a lot of extremely important work to be done, and the work his father had begun on the Stormtrooper program would be continued in his absence.

And of course it was. Mitaka was partly expecting the announcement, but it still took him by surprise to hear the words coming over the intercom. _Colonel Armitage Hux will be promoted to General, and will take over full direction of the Stormtrooper training program. The program will continue to be administered by its commanders, captains Cardinal and Phasma. Armitage Hux will take command of the Finalizer as his flagship._

So that was it. Of course Armitage deserved to be General. But it meant a chapter was coming to an end. Dopheld felt terribly selfish to feel too stung by the news. They had made it through Hux’s promotion to Colonel, just about. But this was obviously a step or two or three too far. He couldn’t possibly, as a new intake lieutenant who hadn’t even finished his two year initial formation, continue an illicit intimate relationship with a general. Never mind the bloody commanding officer of the ship.

Hux found him a little later.

“This is it, isn’t it,” Mitaka said.

Hux nodded.

“We won’t be able to see each other again.”

“No,” Hux said, and he did sound a little regretful. “This time, I’m afraid not.”

Mitaka bit back his sadness, tight lipped. “I want you to know,” he said, “that I will always be very fond of you, and I will always be loyal to you. And to the rather good memories we share. I hope you feel the same.”

“I do. I won’t forget. I really do have an awful lot to do. There’s a lot to transfer, you know. Documentation. Schedules. Got to sort out his old rooms on the Absolution. Captain Opan is going to assist me there,” he said. “So. Already got it all in hand.”

“Of course you have, sir,” Mitaka said, unable to help feeling a tiny bit bitter.

* * *

It was over two weeks before he saw Hux again. He was on bridge duty, on a console in the pit, and glanced up to see a slender figure in black stride past, greatcoat flowing behind him. Of course he looked perfect. Hux called out to Captain Peavey, and Mitaka noticed that his voice sounded a little harsher than it used to when he was addressing a small room. He stopped himself before he got too far into thought. He could not allow himself to be distracted. And if Hux did notice him, here on the bridge, or anywhere on ship, he wanted him to notice a dedicated and conscientious officer.

* * *

_(Epilogue — after the events with Starkiller and the Supremacy)_

It had been nearly two years of carrying on as a dutiful and conscientious officer. He had completed several different duty rotations on board ship, from engine monitoring to weapons console on the bridge, including another stint working on the secret project that became known as Starkiller. With Hux, of course. They’d both been perfectly professional. And they’d both been perfectly professional on the bridge. Apart from that, they never saw each other, except once or twice by chance at the firing range and at the mess. Hux had surrounded himself with a sort of personal crew who ran errands for him. He’d seemingly inherited the rather forbidding Tritt Opan from old Brendol, and had picked up the others from… wherever. Mitaka had been terribly jealous not to have been included. They had been for a brief period of time genuinely close. The fact that they’d gone to bed together was really not the point. It was something more above board than that — Mitaka had offered his personal loyalty, and he had meant it. But it had not been taken up. Hux was always pleasant to him, though, if sometimes, by necessity, a little distant.

Then things had turned upside down, for everyone. Starkiller had gone from triumph to destruction, and some of Mitaka’s colleagues on the Production side of engineering had been lost. Then there was the mad Resistance suicide attack on the Supremacy, and some damned Jedi woman had assassinated Snoke. Kylo Ren was Supreme Leader. Now Mitaka could join the ranks of those who had been personally physically assaulted by the Supreme Leader, along with Hux. Although of course Ren hadn’t been Leader at the time. Mitaka thought that was the sort of thing Hux would quibble about.

A few days after the battle of Crait, Mitaka found himself waiting for a turbo lift, alongside Hux. He looked desperately tired, and he seemed to be moving very stiffly on one side.

“Sir,” Mitaka said. “Are you alright?”

Hux sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“Listen. If you would like, perhaps, some tea. I’m possibly being foolish and sentimental, but I think it would do you good.”

Hux blinked at him. “Mitaka,” he said. “It’s been a hell of a time. I barely know which way is up.”

Mitaka nodded, and smiled at Hux, rather tenderly. “I know. It’s been a lot for everyone. But especially you.”

“Yes. Thank you. You always seem to say things like that.”

“You remember, sir, that I promised you my loyalty?”

“Yes. I do. I didn’t forget that.” Hux stopped and swept his hand over his face. “Look. This tea you’re offering me. Surely you’re sharing at the moment, in your rooms?”

“Yes, sir. I am. Hot bunking with three other chaps. Two of them from the Supremacy.”

“Well, you didn’t think that through very well, did you?” Hux said, and his tone was far more wry than scolding.

“I could turf them out for an hour or so.”

“Probably best if you come up to my rooms, then, isn’t it.”

“Yes. Yes, sir, it is. Thank you very much for the offer.”

Mitaka could scarcely believe it, and couldn’t hide his proud smile.

The turbo lift beeped its arrival.

“Come on. Lift’s here,” Hux said. “You aren’t on your way to anything important, are you?”

“No, sir. Just finished on radio monitoring duty. Next three hours are down time.”

“Good. Come with me.”

The lift doors opened and they boarded, and stood in silence as people got on and off at the next two deck stops. Hux got off at the senior officers’ accommodation deck and Mitaka followed him.

“We’ll use my clearances,” Hux said. “Nobody’s going to ask me any questions after all, are they?”

“No, sir.”

He followed Hux to his quarters. They were much larger than Hux had had as a major. It was an entire two-room set, with a long couch, a table and chairs for meals and meetings, a food and drink prep area with a big conservator, a big desk and comfortable chair, and an open door arch leading to what must be the sleeping area.

“Sit on the couch,” Hux said. “I’ll make the tea.”

Dopheld felt suddenly emotional. This big room fit for a commanding officer, with the commanding officer in it, and yet it was somehow just the same as it had been the very first time they’d shyly sat and offered each other tea. It was Armitage making the tea, his long lean body standing at the counter, stirring the pot. Those long legs that Mitaka had got used to seeing only as Hux passed by on the way to something more important.

“It’s only that I’m tired enough not to say no to you,” Hux said. 

Mitaka stiffened. “Oh. How do you mean that, sir?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m glad I did. You were right, you see.”

He brought the tea, in the same old standard issue mugs, over to the couch. He gave Mitaka his tea, and sat down beside him.

“Now. What shall we drink to this time?”

“Victory, over the Resistance,” Mitaka said, dutifully. “And the time to recover from it,” he added.

“Yes,” Hux said. “Victory, and the time to recover from it.” He sipped his drink and gave a long sigh of satisfaction.

“I heard about what happened in the command shuttle,” Mitaka said.

“Oh.” Hux grimaced. “Is it being talked about?”

“No. Not widely. Tavson plays racquetball with my room mate. And as I understand it he left my room mate to put the pieces of the story together himself.”

“So I needn’t discipline him, you mean?”

“That’s more or less what I’m saying.”

“Well, I’ll be the judge of that.”

Mitaka looked at Hux. He was sitting a little awkwardly.

“I did notice, too, sir, that you were carrying yourself a little stiffly. One one side.”

“Yes. Well spotted.”

“Look. You can throw me out and let that be that. But I care about you. That’s why I asked if you were alright.”

“You do, don’t you? Still.”

“Yes. I shan’t lie to you. I care about you and I’m still very very fond of you. And I don’t like to see or hear of anyone hurting you.”

“One minute Snoke was gone,” Hux said, “and I know it was him that did it, Ren, not this Jedi girl on her own, they were in it together.”

The tea, or something, had got him talking.

“And I see him there, and I need to act quickly to get some stability, make sure we know where orders are coming from. And he forces me to acknowledge him as Supreme Leader. I mean _forces_ , he grabbed me by the neck.”

Mitaka nodded and listened.

“Not with his hands you know, but with his sodding magic powers.”

“He did that to me, too.”

“When?”

“Week or two ago now. When that Resistance pilot escaped.”

“Oh. That,” Hux said. “Bastard. He shouldn’t go around doing that.”

“He shouldn’t do it to you either.”

“No,” Hux said. “He shouldn’t.” He abruptly went back to the story of what had happened. “And then, yes, as you mention, down on Crait and I actually think I’m getting through to him. Next thing I know, I’m hitting the wall of the shuttle. Bruised hip, cracked rib.” He looked up and sighed. “So now you know.”

“It wasn’t him before, was it? It was Snoke.”

“Yes. It was Snoke. One Supreme Leader much like the other in that sense.”

“He shouldn’t _be_ Supreme Leader. Is that treason? Write me up for treason if it is.”

“No. He’s absolutely bloody insane. He won’t last.”

“If there’s any way I can help,” Mitaka said, “I want to help. I want to help _you_.”

“Oh, Dopheld. I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”

“Something needs to be done. You’ve got good people around you. Loyal people. Just know you can count on me, too.”

“I do. I value you very much. You’re absolutely top drawer quality. I’ve said that.”

Mitaka mused on how much he seemed to have been left behind over the last couple of years.

“I did feel at times as thought I might not be good enough,” he said.

“Oh,” Hux said. “Oh, well of course I suppose… this is about me choosing my little sort of personal team, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, sir, I must seem very ungrateful.”

“Dopheld. It wasn’t that. I really didn’t want to put you in harm’s way. It’s a very cutthroat world out there. You know that.”

“Yes. I realise that.”

“And so, there’s an extent to which people doing various errands for me, might have to be, should the most extreme circumstances come to pass, expendable.”

Mitaka shook his head. “I’d take a risk for you.”

“No. No. You’re not expendable. Absolutely not. I was trying to keep you safe, keep you out of it entirely. As well as, obviously, dealing with everything.” Hux put his empty tea mug on the floor, and reached out a hand to Mitaka. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” he said.

Mitaka took his hand. He squeezed it. “I missed you.”

“I think I must have missed you. Too busy to notice, perhaps. I don’t know. I feel now as though I’ve been missing you awfully.”

Mitaka put his tea mug on the floor, and put both his arms around Hux. “I’ll be careful on the side where you’re still sore.”

“Thank you. I’ve definitely missed this, you know.”

Mitaka kissed him very gently on the cheek. “We’re going to make this work, somehow. The whole damn thing. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, and we’re going to work together to make things right. You have my support, however you want to do it.” He kissed him again. “You have me. If you want me.”

Hux held tight on to Mitaka’s waist.

“Maybe I do,” he said.

Mitaka could feel him relaxing in his arms.

“I’m so tired.”

“Then I suggest,” Mitaka said, “that you lie down and take a nap. Cancel everything for the next hour or two.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll stay if you want, or leave you alone if you prefer.”

“Stay for a bit,” Hux said.

“Of course, sir.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! I took the ideas of fluff, tenderness, and protective Mitaka, and had some thoughts about Mitaka's origin story — how come he's around 30 in TFA but still just a lieutenant. So I imagined he might have joined in his early/mid twenties, after having a job in the civilian world, and maybe that job would be in some technical specialism that the First Order had a demand for.
> 
> The characters discuss abuse Hux has suffered from Snoke, and later from Ren.
> 
> EDIT NOTE (16 July): I realised I'd messed up the telling of the canon events in the Phasma novel, regarding who knows what about Brendol, so I edited that scene. It takes a little bit of the shine off in one place, but I think I prefer it canon-accurate.


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